Albion Michigan Home Page International Poets Series is honored to present

Alexander Pushkin (1799 - 1837)
Greatest Russian writer.

Favorite Pushkin Poems

see also - "Other Pushkin Poems"

And Alexander Pushkin Biography


Wondrous moment.
(To ***)

The wondrous moment of our meeting...
I well remember you appear
Before me like a vision fleeting,
A beauty's angel pure and clear.

In hopeless ennui surrounding
The worldly bustle, to my ear
For long your tender voice kept sounding,
For long in dreams came features dear.

Time passed. Unruly storms confounded
Old dreams, and I >from year to year
Forgot how tender you had sounded,
Your heavenly features once so dear.

My backwoods days dragged slow and quiet --
Dull fence around, dark vault above --
Devoid of God and uninspired,
Devoid of tears, of fire, of love.

Sleep from my soul began retreating,
And here you once again appear
Before me like a vision fleeting,
A beauty's angel pure and clear.

In ecstasy the heart is beating,
Old joys for it anew revive;
Inspired and God-filled, it is greeting
The fire, and tears, and love alive.





I loved you, and I probably still do,
And for awhile the feeling may remain;
But let my love no longer trouble you,
I do not wish to cause you any pain.
I loved you; and the hopelessness I knew,
The jealousy, the shyness -- though in vain --
Made up a love so tender and so true
As may God grant you to be loved again.




Pushkin's Confession* to Alina Osipova

I love you -- though I storm and stress,
Though vain this toil and melancholy,
And to this shameful, hapless folly
Here at your feet I will confess!
It ill-becomes me; I get older...
Time, time to be more sensible!
And yet I know the love-disorder
By all the symptoms in my soul:
I'm bored without you -- I keep yawning;
I'm sad with you -- I suffer through,
And barely hold myself from owning,
My angel, how I care for you!
When in the parlor your light footfall
Or dress's rustle reaches me,
Or voice so innocent, so youthful,
I lose my senses suddenly.
You smile at me -- I'm glad, immensely;
You turn aside -- I'm sad again;
Your pallid hand may recompense me
For the whole day of utter pain.
When you embroider diligently,
Bent over casually, though gently,
Eyes, ringlets down -- I am beguiled;
In silence, tenderly, intently
I watch, admire you like a child.
But then how wretched my existence,
How desolate my jealous pain,
When you set out into the distance
(At times despite the cold and rain);
And then your solitary grieving,
And, in a corner, twosome talks,
And twosome piano of an evening,
And twosome trips, and twosome walks...
Alina! have a little mercy.
I wouldn't dare to ask for love:
Perhaps, for sins I'm guilty of,
My angel, I'm of love unworthy...
But feign it! All can be achieved
By that expressive gaze, believe me!
Ah, it's so easy to deceive me!..
I'm glad myself to be deceived!
*In Russian, the word for "declaration" (of love)
also means "confession".
couple walking

More Pushkin Poems

All poems translated by Genia Gurarie

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